Staring Down the Barrel
by AgentDiNozzo13
Summary: Tony is in his apartment. Staring down the barrel of his own gun. He thinks everyone would be better off when he was dead. But a small voice in his head, the voice of Gibbs, is trying to change his mind. But is he too late? NO major character death!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just a two-shot. May become a three-shot, depending on how into it I get. Enjoy!**

Tony sat in his living room. His gun lay in his hands. He moved it so the barrel was pointing towards his head. He stared at the shiny metal of the gun. In that metal, he saw the reflection of his life. He saw the pain, the tragedy, and the loss. It seemed to be mocking him. He could feel his finger gliding towards the trigger. Gliding across the smooth surface. His finger was now resting on the trigger. He used his thumb to set the automatic lever. It made a click sound that seemed to echo through the room.

_What the hell are you doing, DiNozzo?_

He could practically hear Gibbs saying it. But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered now.

_That's crap and you know it, DiNozzo. You do matter._

He could hear Gibbs' voice in his head now. It was stern, but with an edge of kindness.

_You know you don't want to die. Not yet._

But that was the problem. He _did_ want to die. He wanted to die more than anything. He wanted all the pain to stop. The only thing standing between him and eternal happiness was Gibbs' voice. Tony suddenly realized that if he hadn't met Gibbs, he would have pulled the trigger long ago. Back on that day in Baltimore, when he was in a similar apartment living room, staring down the barrel of his own gun. And who knows? Maybe he should have. Maybe he would have been better off if he had ended his life on that night.

_You wouldn't have been better off, Tony. And you won't be better off if you pull that trigger now. You may have wanted to die then, but now you have something to live for. You have a family that cares about you, whether it's biological or not._

Well that was true, his biological family never cared about him. His father had beaten him senseless too many times to count, and his mom died doing one of her favorite things. Drinking. All the more reason to kill himself. If his own blood didn't want him, why would anyone else?

_Because you're a bright, funny guy. That's why people would want you. Your smile is infectious, and you know that we wouldn't have been able to get through all the hard times without it._

Wrong again. That smile was hardly ever genuine. It was just a mask. A false persona. That wasn't the real Tony DiNozzo. The real Tony DiNozzo is a screw-up. He always has been, and he always will be. Which is exactly why everyone else would be better off when he was gone.

_That's not tru--_

"SHUT UP GIBBS! JUST SHUT UP! IF YOU REALLY THOUGHT ALL THESE THINGS, YOU WOULD BE _HERE_! TELLING ME _YOURSELF_!" he screamed. His voice echoed out into the near-empty apartment. The elderly lady that lived below him thumped her broom against the ceiling, yelling to stop all the racket. He looked down at his gun again. He could see his face in the shiny metal. It looked old. Pain lines were evident around his eyes and mouth. His hair was messy, and stuck up every which-way. There was a barely-visible layer of stubble forming on his chin and upper-lip. It was hardly the well-dressing, good-looking Tony everyone was used to. He used his free hand to rub down his face, stopping when it was over his eyes. He couldn't look at the gun anymore. If he was going to do this, he would have to keep his eyes closed, otherwise he would surely chicken out. Again. He removed his hand but kept his eyes shut-tight. He replaced the hand on the handle of the gun. He just then realized that his teeth were clenched so hard, it felt like they were about to break. But he didn't care. What good were teeth when you're dead, anyway?

_Tony, you know you don't want to do this. Think about someone other than yourself, Tony. Think about the team._

That did it. He had been thinking about anyone _but _himself for as long as he could remember. Especially the team. He was always thinking about the team. Especially Gibbs. He may be a bastard, but he was the closest thing to a father he had. But that didn't matter. He knew Gibbs didn't feel the same way.

_But I _do,_ Tony! I love you like a son, I've just been too preoccupied to show it. I'm sorry Tony._

But it didn't matter. That wasn't Gibbs talking. It was simply his imagination. Gibbs would never say things like that. And if Gibbs really did mean any of those things, it was too late. The next morning, the team would be calling him, on both his home phone and cell, but he wouldn't pick up. They would come to his apartment, and would find his body sitting here on the couch, with a neat clean bullet hole in his forehead. He could even see their reactions. Ziva would be sad maybe to the point of crying, Tim would just be too stunned for words and wouldn't be able to form a sentence, even if that was his normal state, Gibbs would sigh and go take his sadness out on his boat, Abby would sob for hours and quit her job at NCIS, Ducky would share in Gibbs' sadness as he packaged up his body, and Palmer would keep his sadness to himself. The director, well the director probably would be overjoyed. Then he could hire a new recruit. One that was more like himself than Tony.

_Tony, please…_

He pulled the trigger.

**A/N: I'm really enjoying writing this, so the next chapter should be up very very soon. Maybe even later today. And I have spring break all week, so plenty of time! And as I said in the summary, there is NO major character death in this story. Kind of makes you wonder, huh? He he I'm evil, I know. **

**And the chapters aren't going to be very long. Just like this one. They are short, but hopefully good.**

**Please leave reviews! I love reviews! Even if they are short!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	2. Chapter 2

At first, he thought he was dead. He had pulled the trigger. He had heard the bullet come whooshing towards him. But, he was alive. He turned around, to find a neat clean bullet hole… in his wall. But he didn't miss. At least not by accident. Gibbs' voice had somehow made him turn the gun, ever so slightly, to face the wall. He could hear the lady in the apartment below him scream. She was probably calling the cops.

_I hate to say I told you so._

Gibbs. What would Gibbs think? Would they send him to a psych ward? Take away his badge? His gun? He had to get out of here. Now. He grabbed his coat and keys off the table and rushed out of the apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, and jumped the last three steps, crashing onto the landing. He considered taking his car, but they could easily put a BOLO out on that. So he settled for the bus. Luckily for him, it was already pulled up to the bus stop. So there wouldn't be any stalling while he waited for the bus to arrive. He pulled a small handful of change out of his pocket and dumped it in the bus' fairs box. He walked down towards the back of the bus and slumped down into an empty row. A small child was sitting behind him. The boy leaned forward so his head was next to Tony's.

"Hey mister?"

Tony turned towards the kid.

"Yeah?"

His voice sounded tired and defeated.

"Why are you all alone? Where's your family?" the kid asked in a typical innocent voice.

Tony turned back towards the window and rubbed a hand down his face. He could hear the boy's mother telling him not to talk to strangers. He didn't understand why the kid had asked him that, until he realized what day it was. It was Memorial Day. He looked around, and every person on the bus was amidst their family or friends. They were probably on their way to picnics or parties. He was the only one there who was alone.

He turned around to where the kid was sitting in between his mother and younger sister.

"I don't have a family, kid." He said in the most kind voice he could muster.

"Oh. Are you an orphan?" the kid asked, a sad look overcoming his eyes.

Tony looked at his hands for a minute before answering.

"Something like that."

The bus jolted to a stop at the entrance to a park. The little boy and his family, as well as several other groups, stood and exited the bus. Tony watched out the window as the little boy ran down a slope of lush green grass into the awaiting arms of a grinning father. Tony sighed and looked away.

Suddenly he felt something in his pocket vibrate. He pulled out his cell phone. Gibbs.

_You can't hide from me, Tony._

He couldn't help but think to himself, _Nice job genius. You don't take your car because they can put out a BOLO, but you leave your cell phone on and in your pocket. Which they can trace. Nice._

He flipped open his phone, waited a few seconds, then flipped it closed. Once he was sure Gibbs wasn't calling back, he opened his phone again and held down the power button. Pretty soon his phone screen was pure black.

But little did he know, back at NCIS, Gibbs had already traced his location.

_________

"I got it, boss. He's on a bus heading North on Elm Street. I uploaded the bus' schedule. There are only two stops left. One is at Rock Creek Park, and the last one is on the corner of Elm street right across the street from a bar." McGee said to Gibbs.

"Ziva, you go with McGee to Rock Creek Park. I'll try the street with the bar. Report back immediately if you find him." Gibbs barked to the team as he grabbed his gun and headed to the elevator.

"Got it boss." The two agents said in unison.

__________

Tony had gotten off the bus at the last stop. He crossed the busy street and entered a dimly-lit bar with a large flickering sign hanging on one hinge.

_Don't go getting drunk, DiNozzo. That's not the solution to everything._

"Shut up, Gibbs." Tony mumbled to himself, causing several stares from the drunks slumped over on bar stools.

He walked over to the end of the bar and sat down on a vacant stool. The bartender came over and took his order, hard vodka, and left to prepare the drink. He came back a minute later and placed the short glass cup onto the bar counter. Tony took a small sip, looked into the glass, then downed the rest of the drink in a single gulp. He slid the glass back towards the bartender, gesturing for him to refill the glass. He did, and Tony downed it in a second. He could already feel his pains melting away. He gestured for another.

Several glasses later, the bartender refused to sell him another. He left and started walking down the street. His walk was slightly swaggering, and he almost ran into several building walls. He knew he was starting to hallucinate, because he could have sworn he saw Gibbs driving along the street ahead of him, scouting out the area.

But soon he was sure it was Gibbs. He quickened his pace. Several yards away he spotted an alley. He slipped into it quietly and headed to the end. But it didn't matter. Gibbs had spotted him and had parked his car on the side of the street.

"DiNozzo!" he yelled from the start of the alley.

Tony kept walking. He prayed that there was a turn at the end of the alley, one that would take him farther than this dead end. But there probably wasn't. All he could see on both sides of the alley was brick. Not even a garbage bin. At the end was a chain-link fence. Tony could hear Gibbs' footsteps clearly now. He was behind him. He felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder.

"Tony? What the hell…" Gibbs said as he noticed the stumble in Tony's step.

Tony whirled around to face Gibbs. He could feel the strong effects of the vodka taking over his emotions. Tears streamed down his face.

"Tony…"

Tony realized what he was doing and tried to hold the tears back. He gave Gibbs a defeated look and fell back against the chain fence. It made a harsh metal-against-metal sound as he slid down it, ending in a a heap on the ground. He tucked his knees up under his chin and buried his head in his arms, which were crossed and leaning on top of his knees.

From his position on the ground he mumbled, "I can't take it anymore, Gibbs. I just can't."

And he pulled the gun from his waist band, placing the cool metal barrel against his temple.

**A/N: There will probably only be one more chapter to this, although since I'm really really enjoying writing this story, I may turn it into two chapters. I really appreciate all the reviews. I tried to respond to most of them, but I've been busy so I'm pretty sure I missed a couple. Mainly the newest ones. I'll try to get the new chapter up soon, but my life will be very hectic starting tomorrow at around noon until Sunday afternoon. I just have one thing after another. **

**Thanks you again for all the reviews, and I hope you keep it up with this chapter. They give me motivation to write faster. In fact, they may even give me enough motivation to get the chapter done before I go out tomorrow. If you're lucky. :) **

**And I'm sorry about all these cliff hangers, but I love 'em!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	3. Chapter 3

"Tony…." Gibbs started. For once, Gibbs seemed lost for words. "Tony, you don't want to do this."

Tony looked up at Gibbs, tears leaking out and slowly running down his cheeks. His lip was trembling slightly, even as he tried to hold it still.

"Tony, why didn't you say you were feeling like this? If you'd show your emotions a little more often, maybe we could have helped you through this." Gibbs tried to reason.

"Gibbs…" Tony said softly. He gave him that heart-breaking look again and continued in a low, defeated voice.

"… Hell Gibbs if I always showed my emotions I'd go around lookin' like a damn kicked puppy all the time."

_Like you do right now. _Gibbs thought to himself, taking in the crumbling condition of his senior field agent. His hair was sticking up in different places, his shirt was rumpled up, probably being the same shirt he wore yesterday, tears streamed down his face, and his hands were shaking like leaves. Even the one holding the gun.

Tony covered his face with his hand and set the automatic lever. It made the same click, although this time it didn't echo. It just made an ugly hollow sound in his ear. Just then Ziva and McGee came running into the alley, guns drawn.

"Gibbs! Did you find…" the two agents began to say in unison.

"Tony…" Ziva finished, staring at her friend's position on the ground, a gun pressed to his temple.

She quickly looked him up and down, noticing the messed up hair and clothes, the tremors racking his body, and… God was he _crying_?

McGee's mouth opened and shut, with no sound ever escaping his lips. The dumb-founded agent slowly put his gun back at his belt. Ziva did the same.

Tony looked at his colleagues and gave a small, defeated smile. The tears had slowed, but they still had left many tear-lines running down his cheeks.

Gibbs was unsure what to do. Normally, with a suspect, he would calmly talk them out of it until they handed him the gun, and hoped to God that they didn't shoot. But this was Tony. One wrong move and that bullet would be piercing through Tony's soft flesh, instantly killing him. He couldn't take that chance. Tony was strong-willed, and he definitely wouldn't back down easily.

"Tony, can you at least tell us why you're doing this?" Gibbs asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Tony's lip trembled for another second, until he bit it lightly with his upper teeth, causing one more tear to leak from his eye. He took a deep breath and looked at the ground before speaking.

"I… I just want it all to stop." He said quietly. He realized that he hadn't heard his voice sound that pleading and pathetic since he was a child, begging his father to stop hurting him. To stop whipping him with his belt, or to stop kicking him in the ribs. Sometimes even pleading him not to hit him with the broken whiskey bottle.

"Want what to stop, Tony?" Gibbs asked softly.

"All t-the pain. I just want it all to stop." He repeated. His voice was being interrupted with occasional sobs, making it hard to speak.

"Like what?" Gibbs asked, hoping that the question wasn't so personal that Tony would give up and shoot.

"Like…" he sniffled, "like everything since I was a kid has hurt. M-My dad used to… to…" he sniffled again, deciding that it didn't matter if he gave up his secret, after all, he would be dead soon anyway. "Used to hit me. Aw, hell he used to freakin' beat me. He would used anything he could find. His belt, a cane, an empty whiskey bottle, his foot, and anything else other than his hands. As long as he didn't have to touch me. He thought I was disgusting. A waste of space. Waste of money. A-and, and now…" he sniffled again, "there's all this crap from work. You guys never give me any credit, ya know? An-And you guys make jokes about how I'm always begging for attention. Well I realized something the other day. You guys grew up with parents who always told you 'great job' and 'you can do it'. That's not how life is. At least it wasn't for me. So, I'm sorry if I want a little attention sometimes, but I can't help it. So… So why don't you all just leave me alone."

After finally finishing, Tony leaned back and sighed. He looked, and felt, exhausted.

"Oh Tony…" Ziva said quietly from behind Gibbs. "Tony, I… I'm so sorry…"

Gibbs cautiously reached a hand out and placed it gently on Tony's shoulder. Tony looked down at it through the corner of his eye, pressing the gun harder into his head, just in case Gibbs was thinking about trying to take it with one of those quick marine-maneuvers.

Gibbs could hardly believe what had just come out of his agent's mouth. He knew Tony and his father had never really seen eye-to-eye, but he never expected this. This was just disgusting. How could anyone hurt their child, let alone beat them? If he ever wanted to kill Mr. DiNozzo, he sure as hell did now.

"Tony, your father was a bastard." Gibbs said quietly, casting his steely blue eyes caringly at Tony.

Tony gave a light-hearted chuckle. "Tell me about it."

"And your not a waste of space. You're a great person, Tony. And if you die, well," Gibbs paused for a moment, realizing that this was the most emotion _he _had shown in a while. Since Shannon and Kelly, now that he thought about it. "well Tony if you die I may just have to kill myself too."

Tony looked up at Gibbs, his mouth gaping open, his eyes showing nothing but disbelief and awe.

"Gibbs, do… do you mean that?"

"Hell Tony of course I do. You're like a son to me. You can be a real ball-buster at times but… but I love you, Tony."

The edges of Tony's mouth seemed to curve up ever-so-slightly.

Ziva and Tim stepped forward at this time, their eyes soft and caring.

"I love you too, Tony." Ziva said.

Tony's eyes lit up, a teasing smile forming on his lips.

"_Reaaaally?"_ Tony asked, smirking.

Ziva just smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, uh, Tony, I love you too. Uh, like a brother, I mean." Time stuttered, trying not to unknowingly bait Tony the way Ziva had.

"Thanks, Prob- -Tim." Tony said, his smile turning small and accepting.

Gibbs gave Tony a look, and Tony automatically realized what he was signaling. He slowly lowered the gun into his other hand, that was lying face-up on his knee. His surrounding friends all smiled and walked over to him to help him up, and they all headed back to NCIS.

_________

Abby ran into the bullpen at top-speed, almost knocking Tony over as she pulled him into a giant hug.

"Abbs… Abbs… can't breathe… Abbs.." Tony gasped between breaths.

"Sorry." Abby said as she released Tony from her suffocating show of affection.

Tony leaned over towards Gibbs' ear and whispered, "I thought you said you weren't going to tell anyone about this."

He leaned back and responded quietly, "You know what would have happened if we didn't tell Abby. You'd probably end up dead, anyway."

Tony laughed softly as Abby bounced up and down, eager to ask questions. But that would have to wait for another day. Another time. Because right now, he simply wanted to sit here. Basking in the love of his friends. His true family.

Tony smirked, turned to Ziva and asked, "So about what you told me back in the alley…"

**A/N: And it is complete. Thank you to all my faithful readers and commenters. (Is that even a word??) Please review my last chapter! If I get a lot I may even write a follow-up chapter. **

**Thanks again and please review! I'm sending you all virtual cookies… no… virtual canolis! Sicilian Pride!!!**

**Haha ;)**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


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